You have magically been transported to a place known as Heathrow Airport to begin your
adventure in this land, known as Great Britain.
There are many travellers here, some look vaguely familiar, others are clearly from exotic
far away lands. Directly ahead to the west people are streaming towards a gate of sorts
where they wait in queues. You are overcome with dread; another queue. There is a Customs
The Customs Official7 blocks your way.
*l Customs Official
The Customs Official7 looks full of life and is carrying the following:
the rubber stamp.
The Customs Official7 blocks your way.
*k Customs Official
You can't just go about killing Customs Officials here you nitwit! This is England, that
wouldn't do at all. Try giving him your passport.
*g passport f sack,gi passport to customs official
Passport removed from sack.
Passport given to Customs Official7.
The Customs Official7 eyes you up and down suspiciously.
OK, Tethys the warlock waits.
Suddenly, with a great flourish, the Customs Official7 stamps your passport.
The Customs Official7 has given you the passport.
You find yourself standing beside a curious device known as a baggage carousel. Many of
the same people you saw in Immigration are here, gathered around in little groups waiting.
*g bag f baggage carousel
You couldn't possibly take all the baggage from the Baggage carousel you berk! Better that
you should tell me which bag you want to take.
*g my bag f baggage carousel
Most of your fellow travellers are milling about here, some stride off purposefully,
looking as if they have urgent appointments to keep. Others, like yourself, wander about a
bit, looking for a familial face. Hawumph the warlock is here.
OK, Tethys the warlock grins.
OK, Tethys the warlock waves.
Hawumph the warlock waves.
Hawumph the warlock exclaims "Hello Tethys, welcome to London!"
*"Hiya Hawumph, great to be here!
Hawumph the warlock says "Acc me, we will do battle with the traffic on the
OK, you're openly following Hawumph the warlock.
Hawumph the warlock has just left.
You follow Hawumph the warlock eastward...
We set off together to a dark and forbidding structure that Hawumph explained to me
was the parking garage. As we approached Hawumph's car I tried to get in the drivers side.
He cast me a suspicious look and I explained that I wasn't trying to steal his car, I was
simply unfamiliar with the peculiar customs of this land. Presently we got in the car and
were soon hurtling down a well paved road at a frightening pace. Faster than a killer
going for a newbie mage we travelled into the heart of London. Although Hawumph seemed
perfectly at ease I couldn't shake the feeling that he was driving on the wrong side of
the road. In any event we made it to a place nearby our destination without incident.
High Holborn Street
This is an unremarkable street. Most of the buildings are darkened and locked shut. By day
there might be signs of life for all you know, but for now the only feature that looks at
all welcoming is the doorway of a Pub to the south.
There is a small red structure here, barely large enough to fit a single man standing up.
Inscribed on the small red structure are the letters BT.
Princess Louise Pub
This is a cheerful and lively public house. The room is crowded with revelers and fellow
travellers. There is a large horseshoe shaped bar in the centre of the room. Behind the
bar is the barkeep, tending to the patrons.
Fodrules the wizard is here. Mithriel the mage is here.
Fordules the wizard waves.
Mithriel the mage waves.
OK, Tethys the warlock waves.
Fodrules the wizard asks "Hello Hawumph, Tethys, have any trouble finding us?"
Hawumph the warlock says "No problems Foddy, I have excellent maps of this
OK, Tethys the warlock chuckles.
Fodrules the wizard has given you the beer glass8.
You see a beer glass8.
The beer glass8 contains:
Hawumph the warlock exclaims "A toast to our visitors from far off lands!"
Fodrules the wizard exclaims "Yes indeed, cheers folks!"
Fodrules the wizard has drunk some beer.
Gulp gulp glug glug gulp glug SLURRRP! Down the hatch it goes!
Mithriel the mage has drunk some beer.
Hawumph the warlock has drunk some beer.
Soon we found a comfortable booth near the back of the room and settled in for a
fine evening of camaraderie and yarn spinning. We shared many tales of our adventures and
mishaps. Fodrules for his part listened intently, often laughing out loud. At other times,
he simply grinned, the same sort of grin as Cat the cheshire wizard often bears. He did at
one point offer the suggestion that strange things may happen should a player succeed in
relieving themselves on the Dragon. We mortals were intrigued by this suggestion and
pledged to attempt it. Our curiosity aroused we conjectured what other injury we could
inflict on the Dragon. Hence this was the very spot where the plot to hold a Dragon bash
was hatched. Fodrules looked on in disbelief at the folly of the mortals, however, he did
let on that he was eager to watch.
Far too soon it seemed the publican called time and we set off into the night. Fodrules
bid us all a kind farewell and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Mithriel and I, having no decent maps, accompanied Hawumph through the streets of London,
back to our respective inns. Our route took us through many strange locations. We passed
through a place known as Piccadilly Circus (though there was no evidence of circus). We
travelled through Leicester Square, Chinatown, and a curious place known as Soho. There
must have been a shortage of inns in Soho as many young ladies were forced to loiter about
on the street seeking to share accommodations with the gentlemen folk passing by.
Finally we bid farewell outside my inn and Hawumph and Mithriel carried on, westward.
This small room is the entrance hall of the "Orchard Hotel". The way out is
through a doorway to the north, which leads directly on to a road. West is the public bar,
east leads to the snug, and some inhospitable steps to the south lead upwards. The room is
very dusty, as if it has not been entered for some time. The door is open.
You are on a staircase leading from the north up to the south. Above you, the ceiling
slants with the same cycle as the steps do, indicating another staircase overhead. At the
bottom is a small entrance hall, and at the top the steps open up onto a corridor.
You are standing in an east-west corridor with several rooms off it. There are openings in
every direction except to the north, where there are some inhospitable steps leading
downwards, and to the northwest, where the corridor turns northwards. The northeast
doorway is rather noticeably grotesque. The grotesque door is locked shut.
Although this room has not been taken by guests for many centuries, it is apparent that it
has often been used in the past as a place to sleep by passing vagabonds, or perhaps more
sinister visitors because there are bloodstains on the floor. There is a barred window
high up in the south wall, but the main window has been bricked over. Consequently, the
room is light during daytime but not subject to the chill winds which can sweep across
this place in the winter. The only exit is to the north, onto a corridor.
As I drifted off to sleep I reflected on the merry evening I had spent with my
companions. Although earlier I was feeling quite disoriented in this land called Great
Britain, now I was feeling more at home. I guessed it might have been the familiar
ambience of this fine inn.
The next morning after a peaceful sleep I set off at full stam to meet the great wizard
Tobias at a place known as Kings Cross.
You are in a vast hall crowded with many people bustling about, intent on being somewhere
other than where they are. There is a great sign hanging from the ceiling inscribed with
exotic destination names and times of arrivals and departures of the trains which whisk
people about in this land. Tobias the wizard is here carrying a large bag and a briefcase.
Tobias the wizard exclaims "Tethys!"
OK, Tethys the warlock salutes.
Tobias the wizard has given you a painful whack (115/120).
Tobias the wizard exclaims "Enough with the salutes!"
Tobias the wizard smiles.
OK, Tethys the warlock cackles.
Tobias the wizard asks "Right then, lets go, the train is here. Ever ridden one of
these things before?"
"Only once, a very long time ago, trains are nearly extinct in Canada.
Tobias the wizard says "Heheh, of course you know about long times, having been
around for a VERY long time."
OK, Tethys the warlock nods, sagely
This is clearly a place of immense power and mystery. Few mortals are ever admitted entry
here. It is unclear whether any are permitted to leave alive. The walls are lined with
books. The titles are indecipherable; however, you feel certain that great power could be
gained from them. Against the west wall is a desk which appears to be the place where
Tobias himself performs his wizardry.
Tobias the wizard is here.
Tabitha the witch is here.
Florence the necromancess is here.
Tabitha the witch says "Go busy yourselves outside for a while mortals, Tobias and I
have wizzly business to attend to. Like tormenting other mortals."
You are standing in an oddly shaped hall. To the south is a doorway, the east is an
archway, and some dark forbidding stairs lead upwards to the southeast. Immediately to the
west is a fitted wardrobe, and some eerie, granite steps to the southwest lead downwards
to the cellar. The kitchen door is locked shut.
Florence the necromancess has just arrived.
From the hallway outside we could hear great cackling and howls of laughter as
Tobias and Tabitha delighted in doing whatever it is that wizzes do to make our mortal
lives interesting. Florence and I set about busying ourselves as Tabitha had instructed.
You give Florence the necromancess a great big snuzzle!
Florence the necromancess has given you a great big kiss!
You give Florence the necromancess a great big stroke!
Florence the necromancess has given you a great big snog!
Tabitha the witch bellows "All right mortals, you may re-enter"
Florence hastily straightens her gown.
Florence the necromancess has just left.
OK, Tethys the warlock sighs.
As the immortals Tabitha and Tobias watched with detached amusement, Florence and
I, in turns, entered the Land and dabbled at seeking our destiny. After a time Tabitha
(the wizzes were particularly fond of transporting us around for some reason this day)
whisked us off to yet another locale in Edinburgh.
Suddenly I found myself in a place known as Deacon Brodies Pub. Tabitha explained that the
good deacon, long since deceased, was in fact quite a scoundrel. It seems he was a cabinet
maker who would craft elaborate and sturdy safe chests for the local citizenry. Customers
would take the safes home and secret their treasure within. Later, in the dark of night
deacon Brodie would steal all of their treasure, having had the foresight to keep a copy
of the key for himself. Reminded me of some of the characters I've encountered in the
We passed the evening in the friendly confines of the pub, enjoying the company of old
friends well met.
The following day, a little worse for wear, but with reasonable stam, I boarded the
southbound train, back to London. From London I travelled in all manner of mystical
conveyances across vast stretches of sea and land to my home in Canada.
Windswept Icy Roadway
You are standing outside the doorway to a place known as the MacDonald-Cartier airport.
The entire landscape and everything in it is encased in a heavy coating of ice. A stiff
wind from the north makes your teeth chatter.
It is snowing.
OK, Tethys the warlock groans.